She Is The Gardener

“When we create a garden, no matter how small or where it is in the world, we enrich the world as a whole.”
― Bhuwan Thapaliya

There’s a particular kind of quiet that settles over our backyard in the early morning. The light comes in low and golden, the air still cool, or at least as cool as it can be, and the small ‘garden’ — her garden — is at its most generous in terms of beauty. That’s when I sometimes grab my camera and step outside.

My wife is the gardener. I get to photograph what she grows.

I do enjoy photographing flowers, although perhaps not as much as she loves growing them. She sees the whole living system: the soil, the bees, the careful balance of sun and water. I see the small, fleeting moments. A bead of dew clings to a petal. The impossible colors and textures. The way the backlight turns a bloom into stained glass, and the morning light adds warmth and softness.

There’s something deeply satisfying and also very humbling about trying to capture, in a single frame, what she has coaxed out of the earth. My photographs are my way of saying, “I see what you made here. I noticed. It mattered.“

Over three growing seasons, she will keep the garden in tune by using what is best for each season, often with colors or leafy greens from every edge. Each year, I find myself thinking the same thing: I married someone who has a talent for making things bloom. The least I can do is grab my camera and try to capture it.